


Fruitful

by naegiriko



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Creampie, F/M, Honest Hearts DLC, Hurt/Comfort, Outdoor Sex, Pregnancy Kink, lots of nature
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 05:27:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15284673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naegiriko/pseuds/naegiriko
Summary: Genesis 49:25: ’with blessings of the skies above, blessings of the deep springs below, blessings of the breast and womb.’





	Fruitful

Zion Valley is alive.

The clear water of the Virgin river is filled to the brim with life, buzzing and twitching deep within its clarity. 

And from this water, the valley grows. Yucca, cactus, tobacco, the fruits are ripe and plenty underneath the beating sun and silent expanse of stars in the night sky. 

But the Courier is an emblem of death. She feels out of place here, in the purity and innocence of the valley and its people. Even the religion rife in the region haunts her, it is reminder of the people she has slaughtered, the wars she has fought.

And just this once, the Courier wants to bring life back home to the Mojave. It’s an easy thought to have in Zion, where green is free-flowing and gentle, unlike the stalking menace of Vault 22. Pregnant women roam around in the camps of the Sorrows and Dead Horses. They look like fresh fruit, lively and new and young, full of promise. The Courier wonders what she must look like to them. Thick leather boots and worn metal armor, made for one purpose. Revolver dangling low and shiny at her hip. She worries for her femininity, now understanding Veronica’s desire for a dress. She knows now it isn’t a frivolity, it’s a symbol. One that cherishes tradition, but carries the weight of the past. It is a smart garment.

When it comes to the fate of Zion, she agrees fundamentally with Joshua. However, his hypocrisy is evident to her. He was conditioned by the Legion to crush the dissolute, and that same sense of justice carries over in his desire to annihilate the White Legs. Only this time, he claims it’s for the right reasons. Her heart hurts for him. She understands what it’s like to carry burdens, even as light as a 10 gram poker chip. She only wishes she could give him the insight to know that it is not the way to heal himself.

But Daniel--oh God, Daniel--he is everything she wants the new world to be. Idealistic, maybe, but he provides the spark of hope to kindle a brighter future. The way he cares for the Sorrows may be too paternal and savior-like, but she soaks up every second of it as if she were one of his disciples. She watches his teachings in the afternoons at the camp, leaning against a towering pillar of rock with a cigarette between long fingers. She tries to seem aloof, like she’s waiting for him to finish his sermon so she can get on with more important things. Instead she feeds off the light and learning energy of the Sorrows, swept away in Daniel’s voice. It’s one that makes her wish she was a better person.

She never tires of Daniel’s preachings. She finds the holiness in them so responsible and divine, so pure and respectable. Even if she can’t live the way Daniel and Joshua do, abiding by the covenant of their god, she respects their dedication and devotion. It almost makes her heart sing, that these people trust in the deliverance of God when He scorched the world in nuclear fire nigh two hundred years ago. 

It is dusk in the valley. The broad formations of rock take on a purple sheen from the fallen shade on their fiery red skin. The Courier has done her job all day, relayed packages from Joshua to different villages. They are needed supplies, but she resents this kind of work. After the Chip, she vowed never to give her service again, no matter how apt she is at it. But for Zion, she would do anything. So she delivers. 

She reaches the Sorrows’ camp just as the sun collapses over the edge of the valley. Daniel sits in front of a small group of women, their heads all shaven bald. Ornate tattoos decorate their shoulders, turquoise beads hang from their ears and at their necks. They are all paying rapt attention to Daniel.

The Courier steps closer tentatively, not wanting to disrupt the simple flow and cadence of Daniel’s speech. 

“Jacob is the mouthpiece for the Lord’s blessings. To each of his many sons; he carries God’s will. It is a will of goodness and plenty, of success and fruitful life. Joseph is Jacob’s favorite son. He is caring and obedient, the finest instrument of God that Jacob brought forth, the son of Rachel, who struggled as a barren woman before she received God’s most holy prize, the gift of fertility. Joseph is promised this blessing of children because of his faith in the Almighty…’with blessings of the skies above, blessings of the deep springs below, blessings of the breast and womb.’” 

The Courier has never been so engaged with one of his lectures before. She waits for every word with bated breath, watching the way he delivers the message, how his mouth moves effortlessly in the wake of difficult words. The young tribeswomen watch with fervor as well. Some clutch at their breasts and bellies, waiting for the promised gift. 

“That’s all the time we have for today. I encourage you as the Lord would: be fruitful and multiply! Fill the Earth and govern it. Be proud of this valley, be proud of this tribe. It is yours to make fruitful, yours to populate. May God be with you.”

With a wave of his hand, the women scatter, whispering amongst themselves and hurrying into the cave. They clutch at each other’s hands, beaming with youth.

Daniel rolls his flannel sleeves up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms and dense hair. He turns to face her with a warm smile. Every slight to his expression makes his presence seem like an invitation, either into the watchful eye of the Lord, or into his arms. 

“The Sorrows’ numbers have been dwindling after the last attack of the White Legs, and births in the past couple years have been few and difficult. I thought they could use a little support. Did you enjoy the message?”

“I did. Only heard the last couple minutes, though.”

Daniel shakes his head. “That’s a shame. I wish you could stay with us for a whole lesson. You could benefit greatly from it, even if your faith in the Lord hasn’t matured yet. The Sorrows are a very friendly people. The community could heal you.”

The Courier chuckles. If only it were that simple, that she could run from the politics of Vegas and live in Zion with Daniel. “Of course, Daniel. Next time, I’m all ears.”

The sun sets deeper into the valley, submitting to the coming moon.

“I’m sure you’ve been running around all day for Joshua. Have you had something to eat yet?”

“No, I haven’t,” she admits. She can’t remember the last time she had a real meal, not just something to stave off hunger or an herb to cure an ailment. If Daniel’s offering her a hot meal, she certainly won’t refuse it. 

“Why don’t you stay? I want to be hospitable to the woman who’s saving our valley. It seems only fair.”

Daniel pours her a bowl of a thick pinto bean soup, dotted with sliced jalapenos and tips of bighorner steak.

“How could I say no?” The Courier does a little joking bow and accepts the steaming bowl, feeling more and more at home.

As they sit around the campfire, Daniel asks, “What did you think of my message earlier? I wanted to make sure I reached them properly. The survival of their tribe is very important to me.”

“The diction was excellent as always. But I’m not sure I know enough about the Bible to understand the characters you talked about, and I’m not really your target audience.”

“Of course you are. You’re a woman. I’m trying to illustrate to these young girls the incredible power God has given them. Fertility is a treasure given to us by Him. It is a way for humanity to continue itself to serve the glory of God, a way to give them something to continue for. Don’t you have the feeling that children are the future?”

“I guess my thought is that it’s a selfish act. It’s like you’re bringing a person into a world that doesn’t want them.”

Daniel looks sadly at the toe of his boot.

“It saddens me to hear you see that. I think you could be such an amazing mother. You know, there are parts of this world where one can thrive. Even here in Zion, with everything going on, it’s still safer than Vegas or California. And when we move the Sorrows to Grand Staircase, I think it would be a variable paradise for them. You could come with us, but you must know that Joshua will never leave.”

“I’m not here for Joshua, Daniel,” the Courier says.

“Then why are you here? No one would put themselves into this situation of their own volition. You’ve been running errands for us, executing White Legs that threaten the sanctity of the valley, and raising our spirits. No one here has forced you to stay, yet you remain.”

 

“It always happens this way. I get roped into something without even trying, and just do my job like I know how. All I do is what I’m told. I’m not a hero; it’s all I’ve ever done. I’m in the middle of a thousand different conflicts, and when I’m forced pick a side, I become a savior to one, and a killer to another.”

Daniel sits for a moment. He looks serene with his leather-backed Bible at his side, the brim of his hat tipped down so she can only see the tip of his long nose and the dark facial hair lining his jaw.

“You’re a willing participant in your own story. It’s no lie that people seek you out because of your strength and solemnity. You may not believe it, but you carry the attributes of a hero. But you can retire. You could but those qualities to rest; rebrand them. Lead the Sorrows out of Zion with me, keep them safe and protected. They need a mother.”

His hand finds hers, the fire glows bright against the purple of the fading sky. The pull of Zion is so strong now that’s palpable. Daniel is right in a lot of ways, wrong in others. She can’t fail Vegas. She has to continue the fight, at least until the battle at Hoover Dam. There are people counting on her back home, there are promises she has made. But the people of Zion are relying on her too. Daniel is waiting here for her to give the orders to evacuate Zion. After the leader of Vegas is cleared up, she can walk away for good.

She takes a shaky breath before leaning into the touch of Daniel’s hand. 

“You’re right. But first I have to finish this. Finish all this bullshit in the Mojave. People’s lives are at stake, Daniel. I’m sure you understand that. I’m going back very soon, once I secure everything you need. Whether I’ll make it back in time, I have no idea. I wouldn’t expect you to wait for me, either. You need to do what is right for the Sorrows.”

The words break her heart. She has no idea whether or not their paths will cross again. Reaching the Grand Staircase is complicated enough from Zion; she was the one who recovered the map. But navigating there from Vegas, deciding to leave Nevada, the only home she’s ever known, is another. 

“Daniel. I need you to do something for me.”

Her eyes are brazen, heat building up in her pupils against the burning of the fire. 

“I need something to bring back home with me. I need something to remind me that life is worth living, to remind me of you and the valley. I need hope. That’s all I ask.”

Daniel’s hand is soft on her face. It’s different than she imagined it, it’s not rough or calloused. When she imagined the feel of him, the touch was heavy and bearing into her skin, grabbing and pulling. But now that it’s happening, she realizes his touch is as light as a feather sweeping a newly formed meadow. And for a moment, she can understand what Joshua and Daniel mean when they speak about the love of God, forming into every aspect of earth and life, manifesting in the subtle but driving in passion.

She kisses hard and fervently, but Daniel teaches her to wait and savor. The night can last forever; her presence in Zion cannot. His lips sweep gently above hers, his facial hair tickling her sunburnt skin. His hands on her face hold her steady and unwavering. Her breath catches in her throat when Daniel works his way down her neck with planted kisses, surprisingly deft and erotic for a missionary. She marvel at his movements for awhile, lets his fingertips curl at the soft points between the plates of her armor, his hands steady the back of her neck. 

Daniel unbuckles the straps of her armor piece by piece, thumbs running over the rusted metal buckles, eyes flourishing over each inch of revealed skin. She looks down at him, admiring his darkness, the rich black of his eyelashes, the chestnut curls at his head, the patch of hair on his chest peeking above the second button.

He’s still fully clothed when he lays her down on the navy bedroll. She cannot remember the last time she’s felt so exposed, and her hand instinctively migrates to her left side where her pistol would be. Daniel notices her trepidation and his hand graces hers in a fleeting squeeze. 

He definitely has the upper hand, but the Courier finds that she relishes in the newfound exposure, loving the flannel texture of Daniel’s shirt rubbing against her bare breasts, the denim against pale and rarely touched thighs. His hands knead her breasts thoroughly, the flesh spills out from his calloused hands like bread dough. He studies her reactions, gauging her arousal, and puts his mouth on her breast. The kisses are airily gentle at first, and then graduate into firm sucks at her nipple that leave her breath high and shaky.

“You’re so incredibly beautiful,” Daniel says, staring down at the length of her body. “I mourn the fact I won’t be able to see you carrying my child.”

Something chemical stirs within her now, her legs part naturally and her kisses become more heated, more fervent, more desperate.

And again, Daniel steadies her. Puts his hands where she needs and holds her. 

His thumb is on the wet fabric of her underwear, making lazy circles over her clit as he kisses her, gentle as a lamb but as deep as a well, his lips are smooth and soft compared to the coarseness of his beard.

The Courier, after all she’s done, the legend she’s created, feels helpless to Daniel. Helpless to the biological need of her body, to her arousal, to him and to Zion. It’s a glorious complacency that she revels in now, at the mercy of Daniel’s mouth and hands. And he is a man of God. She trusts him, his discipline, his grace, and gives in organically to his assault.

She says nothing, thinks nothing. Daniel slides her panties off, the soaked fabric slumps next to the bedroll. He presses her open now, moving her muscular thighs until they are pulled up to her body; taut. She cannot find it in her heart to be self-conscious, even with her pussy completely on display to Daniel, and to any Sorrow who happens to drift by the campfire. 

Daniel seems to know what he’s doing with her body, like he’s been through the motions before. Or perhaps it is natural respect for woman, seeping into his blood from the valley around him. Two of his fingers press inside her with no resistance, they stretch her open, readying her for the next task. His fingers leave her completely coated in fluid, and she watches it drip, amazed at herself. 

The Courier finds herself teetering over the cliff of orgasm as Daniel continues to move his hand bluntly between her legs. The pathway of his thumb on her clit is steady like a well-worn path to pleasure, it glazes firmly over the bud and grazes dense locks of her hair. With her arousal peaking, Daniel finally deems it appropriate to remove his clothes. He does so with some amount of ceremony, taking his time to unbutton his shirt with languid fingers, removing his belt from the buckle. The imagery causes the Courier to pulse and flutter; she has always found the sound of a man removing his belt to be reliably sexual, always pleasing, a metal clink with promise. And underneath his temple garments lies a myriad of humanity, scars and skin. He looks strong, the Courier thinks. And he proves it when he drives his cock into her, feeling like deliverance.

She can’t help it anymore, letting out a cry that must escalate the walls of the canyon, reaching the heavens. Daniel’s hips move with purpose within her, his broad hands cradling her breasts. They clutch tightly at the soft expanse of her chest, and the Courier whines as her nipple is pinched firmly between his thumb and forefinger.

“I need you here,” Daniel manages between thrusts. “Need to see our baby grow, do you understand me?”

The thought of the Courier’s breasts and belly growing in size is dizzying to Daniel, bringing him closer and closer to his own release. But he holds out, savoring the moment, observing her fertility and the delightful spread of her body as her walls tighten around him, signalling her impending orgasm. 

“Daniel!” She exclaims, sounding surprised. Her orgasm is blinding, her eyes squeeze shut. Her chest heaves as hormones flood her body, causing her muscles to pulse thoroughly around Daniel’s hard cock. Each wave of pleasure is distinct, squeezing her in a different way, each thrum more euphoric than the last. 

“I’m coming, my angel,” Daniel says finally. He feels his body reach the point of no return. She continues to spasm as his seed spills inside her, and the feeling of pouring himself into her is unlike anything he’s ever experienced before. It feels like love, like security, like hope. It washes away his fear of death, instills in him a pride for posterity, and brings him closer to God. 

He pulls out slowly, trying not to waste a single drop of seed. The Courier just gazes up at him, glowing already. Her pupils shine fire back at him in the night, matching his vitality. 

“Stay on your back for a little while,” Daniel urges, taking a doctor’s tone. 

“Of course.” She places Daniel’s hands on her stomach. He begins to rub the soft skin reverently, kissing every inch, smiling into her belly.

And when his face is nestled between her breasts, when the stars make tracks across canyon walls like hiking trails, he gets the courage to say, “Please stay with me. Don’t go.”

**Author's Note:**

> hi as u can tell i really need a beta reader so if ur interested PLEASE hmu


End file.
